CHAPTER NINE

“Spike? Spike, what hap—“

Spike was on the floor, his legs tangled in the bed sheets, swearing and trying to stand. The lamp from the bed side table was lying in pieces on the floor beside him. Buffy rushed forward, untangling him and helping him to his feet.

He stumbled back out of instinct, but she caught his arm to stop him from crushing into the bedside table. “What the hell happened?”

Spike felt her hand on his arm and then one ghosting over his face, checking for new injuries. “I... You weren’t here when I woke up. I... I panicked” He admitted sheepishly.

A small smile tugged at her mouth. “I see that.” She muttered softly.
Spike’s face contorted as much as it could in its current state, and he stepped back from her. She could tell that if he could, he’d be scowling.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you. I went to tell Mom and Dawn about what happened... But I guess we’re going to be breaking it to them with a little more show than we are tell.”

“You didn’t tell them?”

“I didn’t get a chance to. Your, uh... accident kinda interrupted.”

“Oh... Sorry, pet.” Spike ducked his head. “Uh... maybe we can get me a shirt before we go down? Don’t want to scare the nibblet... Or Joyce, for that matter.”

“Oh! Shirt! Right, uh...” Buffy bit her lip and Spike felt her hand touch his stomach gently. Now, in brighter light, the damage to his chest looked even more severe. “I think I might still have one or two of Riley’s around...”

Spike growled.

“Or not,” Buffy muttered, amused. “You could just say no, you know.”

“Not wearing anything that belonged to that wanker.” Spike snarled.
Buffy giggled, rummaging through her wardrobe. She cut off suddenly, her brow furrowing. She knew Spike disliked Riley, but she didn’t think he did with that much vehemence. Sure, he was partially responsible for the chip being in his head, but he always seemed angrier with Riley than with any other members of the Initiative. Remembering how difficult it had been for him to lift his arms the night before, she ignored the tee shirts she had and went for a button down.

“Okay, okay... Here.” She handed him a shirt.

Spike hesitated, inhaling. It definitely didn’t smell like the soldier. It smelt like... “I don’t think anything of yours is going to fit me, pet.”

Buffy stopped. Her eyes flew straight to his face, taking in the bandage still wrapped around his eyes. She had been trying not to focus on it, trying to ignore that disturbingly white bandage that reminded her that he was not fine. Some selfish part of her wanted to rip it off, throw it away and for everything to be normal so Spike could walk right out of her house and everything would be simple again.

It wouldn’t be, though.

“It’s big on me. It’ll fit, I promise.”

“It’s not bloody pink is it?”

Buffy scoffed. “C’mon, I’m not that cruel. It’s an old shirt of my dad’s. I don’t even wear it that often.” Spike hesitated again, and Buffy rolled her eyes, stepping forward. “I promise it’s not pink, ruffle-y or in any other way emasculating.” She took it from him and stepped behind him, helping him get his arms through the sleeves. “I’ll go and get you some more Spike-friendly shirts as soon as we explain everything to Dawnie and Mom. Now button it up, you big baby.”


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“Buffy, what’s going on?”

Joyce’s voice rang up to her as soon as her foot touched the top step. She could hear the concern in her mother’s voice, but there was authority too, almost anger. Buffy grimaced at the reminder of the task ahead of her as she turned to walk backwards. She took hold of Spike’s elbows and began to lead him slowly down the stairs. He pulled away, a move she suspected was made out of pride in front of the other Summers women, and she caught him as he stumbled as a result. Righting him again, she hesitated a long moment before gingerly taking hold of his hands.

She fully expected him to push her away, snatch his hands away, muttering about ‘bloody personal space’ or something, especially considering his first reaction, but instead he gripped them tightly, enclosing her small hands in his cool ones. She paused uncertainly before she continued down the stairs.

If he needed her, she would help him, she thought grimly, her hands buzzing under his touch. She frowned at herself internally, Even if it meant holding the vampire’s hands.

“Spike?” Dawn’s voice reached them both, her tone halfway between suspicion and excitement. “What are you—“ She stopped as his face came into view.

“My god.” Joyce whispered, standing. “Buffy what on earth... what happened?”

Buffy led Spike to one of the free arm chairs, taking a seat in the other. She hunched in on herself, her hands in her lap. She was so tired.
“Keeping it brief?” She sighed, “Demon attack on patrol last night. Spike, he... he saved my... my life. But, uh...” She exhaled heavily. “Spike’s blind, Mom.”

“He’s... blind?” Buffy saw her mother’s eyes focus on the bandage around his eyes.

“Yeah, and he’s...” She inhaled, drawing on the Slayer within. She wasn’t going to ask permission. She was going to do what needed to be done to repay her debt to Spike. “He’s going to be staying here until he’s healed and Giles has found a way to help him.”

Joyce nodded, a small smile on her face despite her obvious expression of concern. She was proud of her daughter for what she was doing for the man. Joyce never really saw Spike as a vampire, not like she had Angel, and certainly not Angelus. “Okay.”

Spike’s face twitched at that, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as tightly as they had at Giles’. His knuckles were turning white. The rest of his body was relaxed though, and Buffy found it strangely reassuring that he was more comfortable in her house than in Giles’.
She wrinkled her nose for the others benefit. She didn’t really care if he stayed in her room or not, it wasn’t like they were sharing a bed. She shook herself as her mind wandered, stuck on that last thought.

“He can stay in my room!” Dawn offered excitedly. Buffy could see the fear and the concern in her little sister’s face, but it was currently being overridden by the idea of having her favourite of the Scoobies staying at their house.

Since when do I consider Spike one of the Scoobies? I mean, a friend, I guess. But a Scooby?

Buffy gave her sister a withering look, turning back to her mother as she heard a faint chuckle from Spike. “I’m going to set up the cot in the basement.”

“No, you’re not!” Joyce looked scandalised. “He won’t be staying in the basement in his condition! He’ll stay in your room.”

“He’ll... what?” That wasn’t exactly what she’d expected from her usually conservative mother.

“You’ll set the cot up in your room, Buffy. That way, you’ll be the first to know if there’s anything wrong.” Joyce held back an amused smile. Her daughter seemed to be caught between horror and relief, and something like guilt for feeling the latter. Joyce had noticed the attention Spike seemed to be paying her daughter lately, and it was good to see her daughter being so caring with him.

“You want us to... share a room?”

“You did last night, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“It’s not like you will be sharing a bed. I just want to make sure you can look after him.” Joyce explained. “Do you have any problem with that, Spike?”

The vampire’s head jerked in her direction, moving blindly, trying to focus on the eldest Summers woman. “It’s... I don’t want to be a problem Joyce. I’d be fine in the basement.”

“Nonsense. You’ll stay with Buffy until you can...” Joyce stopped herself from saying ‘see again’. “Until your condition improves.”

Buffy decided to leave it at that, ignoring the direction her mind travelled in at the mention of sharing a bed. She stood, walking over to her mother and lowering her voice. She ignored the pout on her sister’s lips, no doubt because Spike wasn’t staying in her room. “Right, well, I’ve got to go pick up some supplies of the O-negative variety and find some non-Buffy clothes for Spike. Do you think you could look after him for a little while?”

“Of course, Buffy.”

She gave her mother a small, grateful smile before turning and leaning down to talk to Spike.

“Spike, I’m just going to pick up some stuff for you. Mom will be here if you need anything.” He nodded, turning towards her voice. His hand came up to search the empty air in front of her and she reached up to touch her own hand to it. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”